


The Killing Type

by fayedartmouth



Category: CHAOS (TV 2011)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayedartmouth/pseuds/fayedartmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One second, Billy was being held at gunpoint.  The next, every attacker in the room was on the ground and bleeding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Killing Type

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Chaos.
> 
> A/N: Pointless, short h/c. Beta’ed by sockie1000. Set preseries.

It happened fast.

One second, Billy was being held at gunpoint.

The next, every attacker in the room was on the ground and bleeding.

He blinked, wavering on his feet. He almost fell but a hand reached out to steady him. Unsteadily, Billy turned wide eyes to Casey, who was hardly even sweating. “You okay, Collins?”

Billy blinked again, vaguely aware of the fact that he was gaping now. “Did you kill them?”

Casey raised his eyebrows. “You hit your head harder than I’d hoped,” he said, giving Billy’s arm a small pull. “Let’s go.”

Stumbling, Billy looked over the bodies again, not certain how many there were now that his vision was doubling in earnest. “Are they really all dead?”

Casey sighed. “That would be a little excessive, don’t you think?”

Billy looked at him earnestly. “You did say you were a human weapon.”

“Sure,” Casey said. “A weapon of supreme self-control and discipline. I am capable of lethal destruction but in truth, I’m not really the killing type.”

It was Billy’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Or he tried to. It mostly just hurt and made his vision start to swim.

Casey rolled his eyes, shrugging. “Just because someone enjoys incapacitating people doesn’t mean they’re necessarily blood-thirsty sociopaths.”

“You’re not?” Billy asked.

Casey shook his head. “No,” he concluded. “Lucky for you. Now, let’s go.”

Billy took another staggering step, his stomach lurching. “I don’t feel so good, Casey.”

“All the more reason to move,” he said. “I’m not exactly the nursemaid type either. So you’ll want to get back to Michael or Carson before you--”

Casey’s voice cut off with a curse, and Billy would have apologized were he not dropping unceremoniously to the floor. Because Casey wasn’t the killing type, but Billy had always been the injury-prone type.

It turned out, they made quite a pair.


End file.
